Bitterness.
Rage.
Underneath it all
a deep, aching sorrow.
Someone you loved
no longer wanted you,
yet he still wanted us.
Was that what made you jealous?
Was that what turned your anger
onto us?
Often,
I felt like a pawn in a game.
Born seven years after the others…
Was I meant to make him stay?
Did you know
you’d already lost him?
You neglected
what you still had
in favour of what you’d lost.
But that final year.
Those quiet moments
in the fading days
when I cared for you…
You said you were sorry
for everything
that happened between us.
And I told you
it was okay.
A small parting gift
I could give.
And your gift to me
was time.
Time for us to sit together,
even as finality
clipped at our heels.
Ours was a complicated love,
its roots tangled deep
in anger
and hurt.
Still,
I never left you.
I tried to be your voice
when the pain became too much,
when someone needed
to tell them
to stop.
You said your father was calling you,
asking you to join him.
And I hope he found you
when you took your last breath.
I hope you swapped my hand
for his.
I hope he was there
to care for you
when I had to leave.
I am grateful for the time we had.
I think of you differently now.
Sadness
has replaced the anger.
And one day,
I hope
it will become peace.
Leave a Reply